


Healer (take 2)

by i_hate_writers_block



Category: Original Work
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-21
Updated: 2017-06-21
Packaged: 2018-11-17 01:50:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11265465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_hate_writers_block/pseuds/i_hate_writers_block
Summary: The country of Larna is young, having only seceded from the country Foria a few centuries ago, but it was rebuilt from the rubble of a long and tumultuous history. The blood of its ancestors watered the ground, and freedom was hard won. But Foria wasn't going to leave them alone. The king became an emperor as Foria conquered the surrounding countries, and set his sights of Larna. With the armies from all over the Empire on its doorstep, Larna stood little chance and in five short years, the country fell and was assimilated into the empire.Fifteen years later, a young Larnan woman named Riannon finds herself thrown into a position of authority as the Healer of a small village after the death of her mentor. But as she copes with these new responsibilities, a darkness looms over the horizon, threatening to turn the world on its head. Riannon will soon learn that she was meant for much greater things than she initially thought.





	Healer (take 2)

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, guys. I know my first posting of this hasn't gotten much attention, but I want to post the first chapter of my original story here, just to put it somewhere. This is a second draft, mostly because I lost the first draft... but luckily, I was able to crank out a rewrite of part of what I had before.
> 
> Kudos are appreciated, but what I'm really looking for is feedback and comments, so please leave as many as you want. Thank you.

A young girl clung to her mother’s skirt, hiding behind the woman as soldiers from a foreign nation marched through their village. Beside them stood her uncle, the girl’s brother in his arms. The war was over, and Larna had lost.

\---

_“Da!” A five-year-old Riannon called out to her father and ran toward him, grasping onto his leg. “Don’t go, Da, don’t go.”_

_“Ri, darling, I have to.”_

_“But why, Da?” She sobbed._

_“I have to protect my little princess.” He answered with a smile and ruffled the hair on her head. “And her brother and their mama.”_

_“You should stay here then!” She protested. “You can’t protect us if you’re far away!”_

_He knelt down to her, his hand still on her head. “Natika’s taught you about the Galang, right?” He asked, receiving a nod in return. “He is far away from us, but still protects us every day and night from darkness. That’s what I’ll be doing, but just like him, I need you to trust that I’m doing my best so that the Empire doesn’t hurt you, Lyid, or Mama. Understand?” She nodded again, wiping the tears from her eyes. “That’s my big girl. Take care of Mama and your baby brother, for me, okay? You need to be brave for them.”_

_“Viren.” Val said, a hand on his brother-in-law’s shoulder. “The convoy is leaving. We must go now if we want to join them.”_

_“Right.” He said to Riannon’s uncle, then kissed her forehead and stood up. “I promise, I’ll come back.”_

_He lied._

_An elder Riannon stood by, watching the scene unfold with tears in her eyes as the rain seemed to wash away the surroundings into another event: the funeral for her Da and the other village men who died fighting for Larna’s freedom. She watched as her younger self walked up to the grave that was made for those who did not return and planted the ceremonial tree in the soil. This would serve as a reminder of those who gave their lives to keep Larna from falling under Foria’s rule._

_But that’s not how it happened… Natika, the town Healer planted the tree… It was at this realization that she found herself, not as a spectator of the vision, but a participant, planting a tree over a different grave, then gripped the staff in her hands in grief. Suddenly, the trees disappeared and all that she saw was the faces of everyone in town staring at her, surrounding her, watching her. “It’s up to you now.” The apparition of her mother said._

_A flash of lightning and everyone became ill or injured in some way. They crowded around her, begging for help, for her skills. There were too many, she couldn’t tend to everyone. The ground beneath her feet began to give away as she was sucked down further and further, the pleading of those reaching for her echoing in her ears…_

Riannon woke with a start. She was in her room, in her cottage, away from the town, away from people who needed her. It was just a nightmare, thank the Spirits. Speaking of Spirits, her guardian Spirit Pallar knelt over her, staring curiously at her. “Is Riannon okay?” The creature asked, their teal eyes flashing with worry. “Riannon was tossing and turning, Pallar got nervous.” Pallar was a very young Spirit. As was the custom, it appeared to Riannon when she was a child, but only came to this world when she became a full Healer, which only happened recently, as in, two weeks ago. In this form, Pallar had scruffy brown hair, with a braid on the side that was a darker color. Their ears were pointed, as well as its canine teeth, and antlers sprouted from their head like two trees on a hill. It wore little clothing, nothing but a pair of brown cotton pants, out of which sprouted an almost canine tail. Spirits, when manifesting in the mortal world, took whatever form they pleased. Some took forms that attributed them to a certain sex and referred to themselves with gendered pronouns. Pallar, being confused by genders and the need to distinguish itself in terms of sex, chose not to. It didn’t even have a belly button, let alone any sexual characteristics.

“I’m fine, Pallar; just a bad dream.” She said and pat its head.

“Riannon dreamed about death. Pallar sensed it. Riannon is scared.”

Riannon sat up and sighed. “Is it that obvious?” To which Pallar replied with a nod. “It’s nothing. I’ll be alright.”

“Is Riannon sure? It’s Pallar’s duty to assist Riannon, if Riannon wishes Pallar to do so.”

She nodded. There was no room for grief now, she had responsibilities to tend to, and an entire town looking up to her. Spirits, there was no way to describe pressure she felt on her shoulders. This was her first supposedly normal day as the town Healer. Her predecessor and mentor Natika had been returned to the Spirits, and now it was Riannon’s turn to take care of her friends and family.

Some cold water from a small basin beneath a dirty mirror washed away the fatigue in her eyes and she couldn’t help but stare at her distorted reflection in the gnarled glass. Her green eyes were slightly bloodshot, and the bags beneath them swollen and heavy. The past few weeks had felt like an eternity and despite Riannon’s 25 years of age, she felt as old as time. The weather was beginning to turn colder as the seasons changed, and the cold morning air numbed her nose and made the skin on her hands dry and cracked. Of course, the latter was easily fixed with the application of an oily lotion.

The robes hanging from a hook on the wall, the symbol of Galang, the Stag of the Three Spirits who chose the first Healers, embroidered on the back. Along with Inferam the Ram, who chose a dwarf, and the elven guardian Lunal, Galang chose a human to be his representative in the physical world. The symbol was a reminder of how mortals were being oppressed by their dragon overlords, and how the Spirits helped them band together to overthrow them. In the present, the reminders of this war dotted the land, from the forest to the south, said to have grown from all who died, to the pygmy dragons that roamed the Forlarnan Peninsula.

Riannon stared at the garment for a moment, but before she could mediate on it for too long, Pallar took it from its place and opened it so Riannon could slip her arms into the sleeves. “Thanks, Pallar.”

“Riannon looked at it, so Pallar fetched it.” The Spirit said, proud of itself.

“Yes, very good, thank you.” She gave its head another pat.

“If Riannon wishes for food, Pallar has set out food from the cupboards, not the woods, like Riannon told Pallar.” It chirped hopefully.

She couldn’t stop a smile from cracking her melancholic face. She’d had to teach Pallar that she had food in the kitchen, and that gathering it from the woods was not necessary. It was a difficult lesson, but it seemed that Pallar finally understood. “What did you set out?” She asked and started for the door.

“Everything.”

Riannon paused. “Everything in the cupboards?”

“And the cabinets and the little box that Riannon stores ice. Pallar even took out the ice, though why Riannon would want to eat all of that, Pallar doesn’t know.”

Riannon sighed. Well at least this was a chance to get rid of what had gone bad. As they made their way downstairs to the kitchen, Riannon went through a list of what else she needed to get done. Thinking about it, she had a lot to do… She needed to speak with the town’s representative from the Forian Empire about what to do with supplies, now that autumn and winter were just around the corner; especially food, livestock, and clothing. That could probably go last, so she could walk around town and gather any concerns to bring to him. In the meantime, her heavily pregnant sister-in-law needed a tonic to help with her morning sickness, sore muscles, headaches… _“Hm, better make a list of everything Marina needs.”_ Also, her brother Lyid had expressed concern about their uncle Val, the town blacksmith, so she’d probably have to pay them a visit…

Before she could get any further in her list, she looked at the sight of the kitchen in chaos. “Tada!” Pallar said, looking proud of themselves.

“Pallar… you… I…” She stammered, then sighed. “Let’s get this cleaned up…” The Spirit cocked its head in confusion as Riannon began putting things back into the cupboards and icebox. As she said, it was a good opportunity to clean up what had gone bad, and rearrange things to her liking. This took up the rest of the morning, and by the time they finished, Riannon wondered if there was time to do everything she needed.

Suddenly, there was a frantic knock on her door. Rushing to open it, on the other side was none other than her brother. His green eyes looked at her with urgency and fear. “We need you, now.” He said, without waiting for her to ask him what was wrong, and turned around to run towards the town without waiting for a response.

Riannon grabbed her staff and followed him. In the center of town, a crowd of people had gathered, all shouting at whatever they were circled around. Riannon stopped and caught her breath as Lyid pushed through the mass of people “Make way, make way!” In the center of the circle were a group of men, surrounding someone she couldn’t quite see.

They were clearly Forian soldiers, judging by their armor and weapons, and they appeared to have ganged up on someone on their knees. “Come on, elf! Get up and fight!”

A snarl came from the figure on the ground, and a voice she recognized that felt like a ghost from her past. He stood up, wiping the blood from his lip, and glared at the soldier. He was shorter than the man before him, shorter than most human men would be, but his pointed ears said very much that he wasn’t human, at least not fully. Blood dripped from a cut on his tanned arm, but he didn’t seem to care as he just lunged at his opponent, who charged in turn, resuming the fight.

“Justin…” Riannon said, watching his scrap with the soldier, dodging the sword time after time, to get in a hit with the knife in his hand. Memories flooded her brain of her best friend since childhood. His face, full of laughter and wonder, determination and strength. She remembered the jokes he would tell, the adventures they got up to, just the simple fun of being children. She remembered the pain in his face when he found out that his mother, like Riannon’s father, hadn’t returned from the war, and how that became the foundation for which their friendship was built on. And she remembered the pain she felt when he left several years ago, for reasons he never told her about. That painful goodbye was etched into her mind, like it happened yesterday, yet there he was, right in front of her. Riannon could scarcely believe it.

She was pulled from her thoughts when one of the soldiers hit his leg, breaking Justin’s balance, and he tumbled to the ground, his knife thrown from his hand. The main soldier loomed over him, sword at his throat, and prepared to take the final blow.

Without thinking, Riannon stepped out from the crowd and cried out. “Stop!”

Everything froze, even the spectators stopped their rabble, and both fighters looked over at her.

“Riannon?” The elf said when he saw her.

“This doesn’t concern you, little girl.” The soldier turned, pointing his sword at her.

 “I…” Her face went red with embarrassment as she thought of what to say. All eyes were on her now, and a knot formed in her throat. She tried to say something, anything, but the words turned to ash in her mouth. She was reminded of her dream, of the fact that all these people depended on her, and how she was still inexperienced and had yet to complete her full training. The faces around her blurred and all sound drowned out, only her heartbeat made any noise.

No, now was not the time to choke. If she didn’t resolve this, there would only be more violence. “Yes, it does! When people fight, it’s my business, because… because the loser will end up in my care! And… And I don’t want to have to do another funeral!” At that thought, both men relaxed, making Riannon feel more confident in her words. “I don’t know what this fight was about, and I don’t care! We all live here, and despite the bad blood between our countries, we have to exist among each other.”

“The boy should show some respect for his betters.” One of the soldiers spat.

The statement infuriated Riannon. Just because Justin wasn’t fully human didn’t make him lesser, and didn’t make the soldier better. “No one person is better than another. We’re all people, even if we’re not the same race. The Spirits didn’t choose one race as their people in this world, they chose a member of each, and that makes us all equal in their eyes.”

The soldiers backed off a bit at her statement, and the crowd began murmuring amongst itself. The main soldier just scoffed. “Galange chose humans and he is the senior Spirit of the three.” Despite his protest, he sheathed his sword and sauntered up to Riannon. “Keep your little pet under better control, or he’ll be put down.” With that, he and his lackies left and the crowd dispersed.

Riannon just glared at the man as he left, then ran over to kneel next to her old friend. “Well, that’s one way to return home.” She teased and helped him stand up, pressing a cloth to his arm to stop the bleeding.

“He deserved it.” He spat.

His response confused her. The last time they saw each other, before he left for whatever adventure he was on, he would have retorted with an equally witty remark, probably about making an entrance. But now… the face she once knew to be full of happiness and life, was twisted in anger and bitterness. She wanted to ask what happened to him, but that was probably a long conversation that wasn’t right for the moment.

When they arrived at her house, she set him on the bench under her kitchen table. “Alright, clothes off.” She commanded and moved to her supply closet.

“Wh-what?” Justin’s stoicism cracked at the demand, and he looked at her with mortification in his eyes, his cheeks turning red.

“Clothes, off, now.” She reiterated. “You’re wounded, I can tell right now your leg is at least fractured, and I can’t examine it over your clothes.”

“Right… right…” He nodded and complied, stripping down to his undergarments.

Riannon gathered her supplies, including a poultice for the pain, a splint for his leg, and bandages for his arm, and turned back to him, pausing for a moment. He’d changed so much, even physically… The best way to describe his physique before he’d left was, for lack of a better term, a beanpole. He was always so thin and lithe, but now, he was still very lithe, but now with much more muscle, which made him look… wider… And his skin was littered with scars, some old that she recognized, some newer, not fully healed yet. Most obvious of all was the prosthetic where he left arm should be. She set down her supplies and just looked at him, concern and fear written all over her face. “What… happened to you…?”

He avoided her gaze, but that didn’t stop her from noticing a hint of shame in his eyes. “A lot…”

She gently touched his fake arm, and he flinched away from her, but she left it at that. Taking a wetted cloth, she pressed it to the cut on his flesh arm, and he hissed at the pain, but didn’t wince away from it. She sighed in reservation and continued cleaning the wound. After that was finished, she began stitching it closed. “Why did you pick a fight with Forian soldiers anyway?” She said to try and fill the silence.

“Like I said, he deserved it.”

“You know it’s not worth it, right? They’re just bums, the rejects from the army to just put a military presence in our town. You can’t stop them, or change their minds, so why bother trying?”

The look he gave her was one of betrayal and anger. “How can you say that? They should be held accountable for what they do and say!”

“So tell the mayor! It’s his job to make sure they stay in line!”

He scoffed. “As if that fat bureaucrat would actually do anything about it… They don’t care about us, none of them do. This town could be wiped off the map tomorrow and no one would shed a tear at our loss.”

“That’s not the point, Justin! You could’ve been killed! And you almost were if I hadn’t stepped in!”

He backed down a bit, knowing she was right, and was horrified at the idea of being murdered by a guard in front of her. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize, just… please don’t do anything rash, okay?” She said, much more gently, earning a nod from him. “Have you seen your father yet?”

“No.”

“You should do that once we finish up here.”

He just nodded again and let her examine the rest of his body for any broken bones. Luckily, they were mostly bruises and one or two cracked ribs, which she would have to keep an eye on. The leg injury was indeed fractured, as she had thought, but not broken. Still, she bandaged it up, advising him to keep off his feet for a bit, lest it get worse. Once he was fully clothed again, the two bid each other a silent farewell as he left her cottage for his childhood home.

Now Riannon really didn’t have time to do everything she wanted. The tonics for Marina would have to wait until tomorrow, but she could prepare them before turning in for the night. With the mayor, however, she would have to try and see him before the end of the day, especially with the fight earlier, which he would have no doubt heard of already. Resigning herself to the scolding she would no doubt get from the old man, she took her staff and left for the mayoral manor.


End file.
